CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Beck woke and stretched. Mmm. His ass ached, but it was a nice feeling. He turned over, not really expecting Cal to still be there, yet still disappointed to see the other side of the bed empty.
Maybe one day he’d stay all night.
Or maybe not.
At least Cal seemed to be making a regular habit of coming over in the late evening—if the last few days were any indication—and he hadn’t outright rejected Beck’s ideas to improve the farm. He wasn’t sure himself why he was so eager to help Cal other than simply needing something to focus on besides cleaning, sorting, and berating himself for not knowing what his next step would be. Oh, and stupidly longing for more than just a quick fuck. No, he wasn’t going to think about that anymore.
Working on a proposal for Cal would be a great reward for getting some of the tasks he’d been putting off done, like sorting through his grandmother’s attic. No telling what was up there; probably a lot of stuff he didn’t want, but he still had to at least look through it.
But if he was going to do some proper sketching of his vision for the farm, he’d need some art supplies. He had some drawing pencils, but he’d love some higher-quality ones. He also needed a large drawing pad, a new eraser, and, ideally, some watercolors. He’d tossed his old ones, which were mostly dry when he’d moved.
Where did a person find quality art supplies in Ames Bridge?
Maybe it was time to stop hiding on the farm and go downtown. From what he’d heard, several new shops and restaurants had opened up in the last few years—his last visits before his grandmother died had been short and never included going downtown. Possibly one of these new places sold what he needed. If not, then he could at least buy a Mother’s Day gift, a birthday present for his sister, and find a new place for lunch. He’d told Cal he wanted to support the town, so he might as well follow through on that.
But he was getting ahead of himself. It would be several more hours before most shops were open, so breakfast and some attic cleaning needed to happen first. He glanced at the hatch containing the attic stairs as he made his way to the kitchen. He so did not want to go up there.
He started some coffee and then stared into the fridge. What should he eat? Hmmm. Maybe pancakes would give him the energy he needed. He pulled out eggs and butter and then opened a cabinet where he could find the other necessary ingredients. Pancakes always made him feel good. Of course, they’d be better if he had someone to share them with, someone like a stubborn blue-eyed cowboy fantasy come to life.
But that wasn’t going to happen, so he whipped up the batter, got the griddle heating, and even made strawberry syrup with local berries he’d gotten at a fruit stand the day before.
After a few hot, humid hours of sorting through clothes, papers, and knickknacks that should have been tossed out years ago, he showered, dressed, and headed into town. Spring Avenue was the central street, and he found a parallel spot in front of Paint with Pax.
When he got out of the car, he took a few moments to look around. Many of the storefronts looked fresher than they had a few years ago, and the town had created a small park next the old railroad depot. He spotted a new sandwich shop next to Pax’s gallery. The antique mall seemed to have expanded, and there was a new boutique that looked like it sold handmade purses, wallets, and other small bags. He wasn’t sure that would last long, but it was good to see someone making a go of it.
He pushed open the door of Ames Bridge Art, the gallery Pax owned, which was adjacent to the pottery painting business. As soon as he saw the amazing glasswork on display, he knew he’d find a present for his mother there. He was also anxious for a chance to talk to Pax. They’d met a few times, but they didn’t know each other well. Pax was five years older, so they hadn’t spent time around each other as kids, and Pax had moved back to town after Beck had stopped coming there regularly.
From what Beck heard, things were going well with both businesses, but he wanted some firsthand news. He wished Cal would talk to Pax more, since they were the only openly gay business owners in town. But Cal probably thought everyone would assume they were a couple if they talked longer than it would take to make a business transaction.
Pax and a few of his employees were working with a school group on the painting side—Beck estimated they were fifth or sixth graders. He waved, and Pax mouthed “just a minute.” Beck browsed the gallery while he waited. The patterns Pax was able to create in his glass bowls were unbelievable. Beck was drawn immediately to one with swirls of orange and yellow. Pax seemed to have captured the sun in its color variations.
“Locals get a discount.”
Beck turned to see Pax in the doorway of the gallery. “Thank you, but I don’t really count as a local.”
“You do for now.” Pax assessed Beck the way Beck had been studying the art. “Maybe you’ll even find something here that makes you want to stay.”
“Like you did?” Beck had hardly been able to believe it when he’d heard Pax had moved home and was opening a gallery.
He nodded. “Once I got this place going, I realized I was proud of it, and I genuinely like the people who’ve given me a chance.”
“I love Grandma’s house, and I used to love working in the gardens with her, but I can’t imagine settling down here.”
“Give yourself a little more time. You might find a reason.”
Beck narrowed his eyes. “Are you implying something?”
Pax shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Are there already rumors about…?”
“You and Cal?” Pax laughed. “Sweetie, there were rumors before you even got to town.”
Beck rolled his eyes. “Why? He hated me in high school.”
“Are you so sure?”
Beck chose not the answer. “I’d love to get this bowl for my mother.”
Pax smiled. “I’m so glad. This is my favorite of the ones I’ve made this year. I’ll wrap it up for you.”
“Thanks.”
As Pax was pulling out sheets of tissue paper from behind the counter, he said, “I was about to take my lunch break. You want to join me?”
“I’d love to, but will there be rumors about us now?”
Pax laughed. “Of course. It will be all over town that you went out with me to make Cal jealous.”
“If all these people disapprove of gay men so strongly, you’d think they’d spend less time pairing us up.”
“You might think, but I’d be rich if I had a dollar for every time I hear things like ‘My great-niece’s friend’s cousin is gay. He lives in Charlotte, but maybe she could set you up.’”
“Seriously?”
Pax entered the sale into an iPad mounted on the counter and flipped it so Beck could sign. “You know how it is. They’re fascinated by us like we’re some sort of exotic creatures.”
Beck snorted as he used a finger to sign his name. “That’s so ridiculous.”
Pax rolled his eyes. “Of course it is, but that doesn’t stop them. You want to try the sandwich shop on the corner? It’s new since you’ve been in town.”
“Sure.”
The school group was lining up to leave. Pax let his assistants know he was leaving, and he and Beck headed out. When they reached the shop, Beck held the door open for Pax to enter, and they got in line at the counter.
“I recommend their chicken salad,” Pax said. “I’m not sure what they do to it, but it’s awesome.”
Beck went with Pax’s suggestion, and soon they were both seated with sandwiches and Cokes.
“Mmm, this is delicious.”
Pax nodded. “I have it for lunch now a few times a week.”
After they’d each had a few more bites, Beck said, “Doesn’t the way you get treated here drive you crazy?”
“Sure, sometimes more than others, but I’ve also made a lot of great friends here. I think I’ve even changed a few people’s minds about the evil gay agenda.”
“So you think Cal could be a little more open and still keep his farm going?”
“Ah,” Pax said, nodding. “Is that why he’s resisting you?”
Beck nearly choked on a bite of sandwich.
“Don’t try to deny it.”
Beck glanced around and then said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t say he’s doing a very good job of resisting.”
Pax’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, but please don’t say anything. I swore I’d keep it secret.” Why the hell had Beck just confessed that? Maybe because Paxton was easy to talk to. Beck didn’t have anyone else to share his frustration with. None of his friends back in Roswell would really understand his “relationship” with Cal.
“I’ll stay silent, but it won’t stop the rumors, if that’s what Cal is aiming for.”
Beck took a sip of his drink and sighed. “Apparently nothing will, but I think he worries more about us actually being seen together than rumors.”
“I thought things were going very well with the farm.”
Beck nodded. “I think they are, but he wants to do more things like school tours, lessons, trail rides, and enough people are already skeptical, so…” Beck hesitated. Cal would hate for him to be spilling all his worries to Pax. “I probably shouldn’t talk about this.”
“Listen, I understand. No one thought I could make the gallery sustainable when I started it. And Cal’s right; there are plenty of people who don’t want their kids touring his farm. But there are also a lot who support him, even if they wouldn’t vote for gay rights or tell their preacher how they really felt. There were people who questioned my working with kids too, but after a while I rarely got any serious pushback.”
“Cal’s afraid people couldn’t handle him openly dating someone, so he’s really only halfway out of the closet.”
“Yeah, I figured that was how it was.”
Beck took another bite of his sandwich and then asked, “Any advice?”
“Give him time. Make suggestions, but don’t push; or maybe don’t listen to me, since I haven’t had a relationship that lasted more than a few months since college.”
Beck laughed. “You’ve made your gallery profitable for several years running in a small conservative town, while also running the pottery painting business, though.”
“That I have.” Pax polished off the last of his sandwich and then looked at his watch. “I should probably get back.”
Beck nodded. “It’s been good talking to you. Is there anywhere around here that sells decent art supplies?”
“What kind of supplies?”
“I want to do some sketching. I’ve got some ideas of how Cal could improve the farm, and I want to draw them and possibly add watercolor.”
“Do you remember Imani? She’s a year or two older than Cal.”
“Yes. She was one of the few kids who liked to read like I did. I saw her at the library a lot when we were kids.”
“Well, she recently opened a new shop on the corner of Central Street and Spring Avenue that’s ostensibly a stationary store, but they have a lot of basic art supplies too. I’d try there.”
“Thanks, I will. And thanks for the encouragement.”
He smiled. “Anytime, and tell Cal I’d love to catch up with him.”
“I will.” Not that he thought Cal would take him up on the offer unless it was done in secret.
“And you stop by again soon. We could even really set tongues wagging and go out for a beer one evening.”
“I’d hate to be responsible for sending half the town into a swoon, but that sounds nice, really nice.” Having a friend here would make the next few months a hell of a lot better. Having a friend and a lover—who actually acted like one—might make him want to… No, he wasn’t staying; nothing was worth that sacrifice.